You Need A Vacation Oregon Series Part 2
by FraidyCat
Summary: Charlie takes Don to Orygun…slight insinuation of whoopee
1. Chapter 1

**Title: You Need A Vacation. Part 2 of Some.**

**Author: FraidyCat**

**Genre: Drama, Angst; Can't guarantee nuthin.**

**Time line: One Year from Last Time**

**Summary: For anyone out there who has ever had a brother. Slight insinuation of whoopee (het).**

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em – but wanna cuddle 'em.**

**Chapter 1**

Sam rolled over and spooned Jenna, rocking the RV a little. "I don't care," he muttered. "I don't like him."

"You know what I think."

"I'm telling you, he has shifty eyes."

She kicked backwards at him, exasperated. "He does not. He's an FBI agent, for Pete's sake."

"So why didn't he come looking for Charlie last year? He's probably what Charlie was running from."

"Samuel Carver! We don't know that. Charlie never even hinted about that. I still say you're jealous."

Sam snorted. "Of another guy?" He grinned in the dark and touched her…there. "Haven't I made myself clear on that?"

In spite of herself she gasped, pulled away from him a little. "Stop distracting me. You know what I mean. Charlie is like a younger brother to you now, and you don't want to compete with the real thing."

"I'm not jealous," he retorted in a tone that clearly stated he was. He touched her somewhere else. "Does this distract you?"

She twisted around to face him. "Maybe. Listen, they're only going to be here five days. Be nice to him, for Charlie's sake."

He pulled his hand back, sulking. She snuggled closer, let her own hand wander. "Does this make you feel any better?"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"I still don't understand how you convinced the university that this trip is research related. I mean, I'm glad you did, since that was the only way they'd let you go, and I appreciate your doing it so you could coordinate with my time off…I just don't get it."

"Me, neither," Charlie admitted. "On the application for a few days off, all I said was that I was working on a logorithim regarding the **_duco_**, or enumeration, of the **_gutter ratilus_**, in hopes of developing a program that will assist wildlife preservationists in the Northwest, and that I could more accurately collect necessary data in the field."

"That's why I said I don't understand."

Charlie grew defensive. "I shouldn't have had to 'convince' anyone of anything, the hours I've put into that school…"

"Hey, Hey, I'm not arguing that," Don assured him. "Are you really going to develop this thing? And what is it?"

Charlie bent over the fire to add another log. He glanced around him, but the few other campers were spread around the campground. They couldn't hear him, he decided, but he stepped closer to Don and lowered his voice anyway.

"I'll collect data," he said. "And I know you don't like Sam…"

"I never said that," Don interrupted. Even in the firelight he could see that Charlie wasn't convinced.

"Anyway, it's from something he said to me last year, when I first told them what I really do with my life." Charlie looked around again, nervous, lowered his voice even more. "Don," he whispered, "I'm here to count rednecks."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Sam snuck a glance at Charlie and Don. They had arrived yesterday, almost a full year since Charlie had spent the better part of six weeks camping with Sam and his wife, Jenna. Charlie had hitchhiked from his home in Pasadena to Southern Oregon, and it was clear from the night they met over the campfire that Charlie was unhappy with whatever life he had. After he had come clean with them — at least about where he was from, what he diid — and started communicating with his father again, he had seemed more at peace. He had enjoyed fishing, and hitting some of popular recreational spots with his two new friends.

But up until he left their camp at Lost Creek for a trip to the Oregon Coast with another friend, Sam had still seen him, sometimes, staring out at the water or sitting alone in his tent, looking like his head wasn't even in the same neighborhood as his body. Sam wasn't sure what had happened at the Coast; Charlie had never returned to the Lost Creek camp. He had sent them a message, and gone home to Pasadena.

All Sam knew for sure was that Charlie was a lot more relaxed the last time he'd seen him than he had been the first time he'd seen him — and Charlie had been sleeping, that first time! He had to admit, Charlie still looked happy. Lines of fatigue and stress showed around his eyes, and he said that he had been busier than usual lately trying to clear the time for this brief return to Oregon. He wanted his brother to see the river, and he had written Sam and Jenna and asked them to meet them there for a few days. Management at the Lost Creek Marina, were they both worked, was happy to let them have a few days before the next tourist season started Memorial Day weekend, but pretty much thought they were crazy to leave one campground for another an hour downriver.

The brothers Eppes, clutching their freshly minted Oregon fishing licenses, had arrived yesterday afternoon at Rogue Elk campground. At least Charlie was better outfitted this time, wouldn't be reduced to picking up a tent at a yard sale. They even brought their own fishing gear. Stuff that looked like it came from California, and had never seen an Oregon Spring Chinook Salmon in its life, but still…the guys made an effort.

By the time they had set up camp, Sam and Jenna had arrived with their RV — a gift from Charlie, actually, and a far cry from the car they had been living in when they met him. That's probably one reason he didn't like Don, right there. They had all eaten together in the RV last night — no fish for a campfire, yet — and Jenna had remarked on what a pleasure it had been, spending the winter in the RV. She had thanked Charlie again, the three of them had reminisced some about leaking tents in rainstorms and Bill, the old man who had sold Charlie the RV— and Don had no idea what they were talking about. Sam and Jenna had filled Don in on more of Charlie's earlier time in Oregon than Charlie had, in a whole year. If he didn't want to share that kid of stuff, there must be a reason, Sam figured.

He watched from the step of the RV as the Ranger approached the Eppes' campsite, probably to check for their "paid" stub in the car. Don and Charlie were outside the tent, trying to put on their fishing gear, and Don casually rotated his position. That was another thing, right there. The way Don put himself between Charlie and anyone else. He had done it last night, with them. It seemed like a habit, something he did without thinking. It was automatic enough that the gesture must have years of practice behind it. Jenna thought it was endearing, an older brother protecting the younger one. Sam thought it was insulting. Charlie was more than capable of taking care of himself.

When he had arrived last year, he had been so "taken care of" that he didn't even have his driver's license. Sam taught him how to drive, and Charlie got it as soon as he got home. He even sent them a picture of his car. It was a '65 Mustang convertible, a choice that reflected the relaxed spirit he was in fresh from his return from Oregon, more than a college professor.

There was number three. Charlie referred to himself as a "teacher". It was obvious he loved both teaching and anything he could wrap his numbers around. Titles weren't important to him. But in the middle of their reminiscing, last night, Don had asked how they had reacted to learning about his doctorates. Seemed more important to him than it did to Charlie, exactly what kind of teacher he was…Sam shook his head. Doctorates. As in more than one. Hard to believe someone with that kind of education sitting in the rain all night until Jenna dragged him into their tent.

Sam finally hopped off the step and headed for their camp. They should be in the river, already. Last year, he and Charlie would have been, by this time. Probably couldn't get his brother awake.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"He keeps trying to give me dirty looks," Don complained as they pulled on their hip boots. "Who tries to give an FBI agent dirty looks?"

Charlie laughed. "He is not. He's just curious." He sobered, stopped pulling on the boot. "I didn't exactly talk about you much, last year. He probably wonders why."

Don took the opportunity to look at the ground, herd a few stray logs back into the pile of firewood. "You didn't talk about me at all, though, right?"

Charlie looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he hasn't heard a lot of 'I've-got-a-terrible-brother' stories." He met Charlie's eyes. "Has he? Has he got some reason to dislike me?"

Charlie's face shadowed. He and Charlie had come a long way since Charlie came back from Oregon, but there was still a ways to go, too, and Don hoped he wasn't treading somewhere he wasn't supposed to. Charlie hadn't shared very much about that time at all, though. He hadn't known until last night that Sam had been the one to teach Charlie to drive.

"No," Charlie said simply, and he gave his boot one final tug. It popped on like a suction cup, thowing him off-balance and into Don's shoulder. Don reached out to steady him. "Thanks." He looked back at Don. "I didn't say bad things about you." He looked embarrassed, then. "Honestly, I can't even remember if I told them I had a brother."

Don turned to the river, pretending to take it in. "It is beautiful, here," he said, but he was thinking about what Charlie had said. So, he hadn't just been angry at him last year, or even a little hurt.

He really had almost lost him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

While Don was staring at the river, Sam placed himself closer to Charlie. "Mornin' guys. You ready?" Don had turned back around and Sam looked at him pointedly. "It's a little late. Best fishing is early in the morning."

Don looked at his watch in surprise. "7 a.m. is late?"

Sam picked up a pole leaning against the picnic table. "This yours?" Don nodded and Sam tossed it over the space between them. Don easily caught it, offered his interrogation room grin.

"Hurry up, then," he said. He saw Jenna approaching in the background and waved as he turned back to the river. Sam noted this, as he was intended to, and felt himself get angrier. He picked up the remaining pole and began to thrust it backwards even as he turned to see exactly where Charlie was…which was, unfortunately, closer behind him than he had realized. Turned sideways to greet Jenna, Charlie didn't even see it coming.

He just found himself lying on the ground, looking up through fishing line, and wondering how he had got there.

Sam and Jenna's exclamations of horror brought Don charging — or rather, waddling, since he was still in hip boots — back to his brother. The Carvers were leaning over Charlie, who was trying to sit up. Don physically removed Sam, replaced Sam's hand on his brother's arm with his.

"What the hell happened?"

Charlie looked dazed. "I don't know." His eyes took in the fishing pole, then went to Sam. "Did you just hit me in the eye with that?'

"Aw, man, Charlie, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were right behind me. I was going to hand you the pole. I didn't know you were right there. My elbow caught you in the face, I think."

Charlie was getting up now. "My fault," he said. "I moved without letting you know my new location." He grinned at Jenna, who was leading him to the table. "And I was distracted."

Jenna sat beside him on the bench, turned his face one way, and then another. "No broken skin," she finally said to the two men standing behind her. They stopped glaring at each other long enough to look at Charlie again. "Left eye is already swelling shut, though. Maybe we should skip fishing today. We've got some ice in the RV…"

Charlie brushed her hand away, smiled. "No," he said, and stood again. "It's okay. I want to get in the river." He leaned down and picked up the dropped pole. "It's so cold in there anyway, it'll be like having mosf of my body iced, right?" He reached out and grabbed Sam's shoulder. "Don't worry about it.' They all started off for the river again, then. Don, walking behind Sam and Charlie with Jenna, even saw Charlie pull Sam in for a sideways clinch.

He really didn't like this guy.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

It was huge. Don could see that, as Charlie started reeling in. This could be the only fish any of them caught all week, and it would be enough.

He heard Sam yell at him to grab the net, and Don splashed back to the bank. Sam closed in on Charlie, but didn't help him reel, pull on the pole — this was his fish.

Again, Don wasn't sure what happened. By the time he had placed the net, they could all see that the fish was so big, Sam put his hands on it, as well. He remembered yelling at Charlie, encouraging him. The power and fight of this fish was exhilarating, the splashing made it hard to hang onto the net. His hands were freezing. And then the net was empty, a silver shadow swimming rapidly away from them.

"Sorry," he heard Sam say. "I thought Don had it."

Don slowly straigtened, was about to lay into Sam, when they noticed Charlie. Submerged almost to his chest in water, he was sitting where the thrashing Salmon had thrown him. Jenna was holding onto the back of his shirt, trying to keep him from floating away. Sam and Don quickly threw their gear up onto the bank, waded to him and between the two ofo them, threw him up on the bank as well. Seconds later they all surrounded Charlie. Soaking wet, shivering, smiling.

"I told you I wanted to get in the river."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Fishing was over for the day, but after a hot shower Charlie insisted that they do something. "Don never gets out of town, unless it's work related," he told Sam. "I really want him to have a good time." They were walking toward the RV from the campground restrooms. Charlie shook some more water out of his hair, suddenly reminding Sam of an Old English Sheepdog he used to own. "Besides," he continued, "I've been pretty busy the last few months myself. I could use a break."

Sam held open the door to the RV. "Maybe you should just take it easy, then," Sam suggested. "When you were here last year, you were always falling asleep in the sun." Charlie had climbed up the steps, and Sam was following. "Don't let Don's being here ruin your vacation."

Sam lifted his head then, to see Don and Jenna waiting for them inside the RV. Don's eyes held his for a long moment, then turned to his brother. "Sam's right, Charlie. I certainly don't want to ruin your good time with your friends."

"Don, knock it off," protested Charlie, pushing past his brother to sit at the table. "You're not 'ruining' anything. I've been looking forward to bringing you here for the most of the last year, I enjoy spending time with you…You know, as a brother, not just as a consultant." He looked up at Don, then, and frowned. "Are you having a bad time?"

Don decided to pretend Sam wasn't there for a moment, and joined his brother at the table. "No, Charlie, I'm having a great time. I'm really glad you made this happen, and it is good to get out of the office with you." He couldn't help it, he turned his head and almost looked at Sam. "I'm just sorry you've already got a black eye and taken a river bath, today."

Charlie laughed. "S'kay, I won't break." He looked at Sam and Jenna, who were still standing. "I've got an idea. Since I was here last I've done some research into Southern Oregon University, and Ashland. The Oregon Shakespere Festival, college town…" He saw all three of the others exchange glances. "We don't have to go to a play," he assured them, "don't panic. I just thought we could hang out there for a few hours, drink in the local culture…"

"And drink in the Lithia Water," laughed Jenna.

"What's that?"

Sam grimaced. "It's a punishment, Charlie."

Jenna threw an elbow at him. "Many people believe it has healing properties. Some sort of natural mineral springs that bubble below Ashland."

Don slapped a hand on the table. "That's it, then, We'll go to Ashland and put Lithia Water on your eye, Charlie."

Even Sam had to chuckle at that, and felt like he should make an effort as well. "Sure. And if you really want to go to a play…"

Don looked at him quickly. "Sam. Please."

"We probably won't have time anyway," Sam grinned back at him.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

A few hours later, at the public drinking fountains on the Plaza in Ashland, Don let Charlie go first. Charlie leaned over the Lithia Water, and soon his face twisted and he began to sputter and jerk. He was still leaning over, clutching his knees, as Jenna calmly led him to the traditional water fountain. Sam watched with a grin, turned to Don. "You ready?"

Don could still hear his brother coughing. "Do they have any Lithia Beer around here, Sam?"

The City of Ashland offered more than its share of eclectic entertainment for the day. There was traditional English pub hopping for Don and Sam, art galleries for Jenna, an hour on campus for Charlie, and they all enjoyed feeding the ducks in a pond at Lithia Park as a relaxing end to the day.

It was almost dark by the time they got back to the campground, but they each had time to build a fire at their sites. Don and Charlie sat around theirs until the stars were high in the sky above the river. Don reached over to add another log and his hand brushed his brother's leg. "Geez, Charlie, you're sitting a little close, there. These jeans are almost on fire!"

His brother backed off a few inches. "Sorry. Can't seem to get warm."

Don looked at the sky again. "It's late. I'll stock the fire and we'll go to bed. It is cool out here. Maybe being inside a sleeping bag will help."

Charlie shivered, and sneezed. He nodded his head to agree with his brother and disappeared inside the tent.

By morning Charlie had developed a dry hack to go with his sneezing, most likely the result of his bath in the river. Sam and Jenna had come to the Eppes campsite to share breakfast, and Don and Sam were soon arguing over Charlie's day.

"He's not going in the water, today," Don insisted, facing Sam, the firepit between them.

Sam leaned over and picked out the smallest of the logs, used it to gesture at Don. "I didn't say he should. He can fish from the bank. There are places downriver we can go."

He shoved the piece of wood at Don. "Here. Put this on the fire. We still have to cook breakfast."

Don automatically grabbed the wood, then halted and tried to shove it back. "You're as close as I am."

Sam sighed and walked a few steps closer to Don. "It should be placed there," he said, indicating to Don a place in the fire that had reduced to coals already. "Closer to you." He shoved the end of the wood at Don again.

Charlie was sitting at the picnic table with Jenna, and could hear the tension in his brother's and his friend's voices. He already had a headache, and he didn't feel like being discussed as if he weren't there. He pushed himself up from the table, determined to somehow persuade them back to yesterday's truce. He walked over to speak to them just as Sam shoved the log at Don again, who deftly swung to one side to avoid touching the wood. As he turned, Don saw Charlie's startled face, and grabbed frantically at the firewood, throwing Sam off balance. Sam slammed into Don, Don slammed into Charlie, they all slammed into the ground. Jenna gasped and rushed around the table to distangle them.

In the end, Charlie still lay on the ground, the piece of firewood close to his head, and they could all see him bleeding on it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The clinic's on-call physician took in Charlie's black eye while he was stitching the cut over the other one, took note of the occasional cough. "So," he said, and Charlie felt another tug. "You must be here on vacation."

Charlie tried to smile. "Yes. I'm having a little trouble mixing my family and my friends." He jerked involuntarily.

"You shouldn't have felt that," the doctor mused, and Charlie automatically apologized.

The sharp pain became a tug again, and he wondered for a while why he was the one apologizing.

"Blood and water," the doctor said.

Charlie tried to frown. The mouth part worked, but his forehead wouldn't wrinkle. "Excuse me?"

"People say it's 'oil and water' that don't mix, but I always thought it should be 'blood and water'. Not as bad as it looks." The doctor stood and snapped off his gloves. "You can open your eyes now."

Charlie looked up at him warily. "How many?"

"Only four. My nurse will be in to bandage that and clean you off a little. How much longer will you be here?"

Charlie struggled to sit up on the table, and the doctor extended a hand. "Three more days," he answered.

"Have your own physician remove those stitches in seven, then." The doctor turned toward the exam room door while scribbling on a chart. "Enjoy the rest of your vacation," he said, and paused at the door to speak with the nurse entering.

After her work was done, Charlie hopped off the table and joined the three anxiously waiting for him. As soon as the door to the waiting area opened, Sam and Don were on their feet, simultaneously speaking.

"Buddy, I'm so sorry…"

"…Charlie, man, that was so stupid…"

Charlie held up a hand for silence, the way he did in an unruly freshman class. It worked on Don and Sam, too. He looked at Jenna and smiled. "Let's go to breakfast," he said.

She smiled back. "Are you sure?"

The group walked towards Don's SUV, Charlie and Jenna in front. "Yeah, I'm okay. I already had a headache." Charlie looked at Sam and Don, who were cowering behind them like frightened puppies. "It's all right, guys. I probably shouldn't have snuck up behind you."

Both of the men started to protest, but Charlie went on. "This isn't exactly the vacation I had planned, but we can salvage something out of this." His tone became wheedling. "Let's not dwell on this, okay?"

Sam and Don gave each other one last glare as they all climbed in the SUV.

"We'll go to breakfast, and plan something else for the morning," Charlie looked at them hopefully. "Okay?"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Don was not happy. He glanced back at Charlie and flicked his line again.

After this morning's campfire accident, the three had eaten a late breakfast in town, then gone West to Jacksonville, a historic town proud of its Gold Rush heritage. All the way there Charlie had tried to convince them to try fishing again in the afternoon. "It's okay," he said, and paused to sneeze. "I'll sit on the bank. You guys should do what we all came here for."

"Fishing's best in the mornings," dismissed Sam, but Charlie persisted.

"We went in the afternoon last year. Fish have been known to be caught in the afternoon. Statistically,…"

"…Charlie, lay off the numbers for a while," Don had interrupted. "You're on vacation."

Sam had glared at him again, then, like Don had no right to say that to Charlie. Don's face heated again just remembering that. Sam had known Charlie for a few weeks, last year. Don had known Charlie his entire life, and he had _always_ had Charlie's best interests at heart. He needed a vacation as much as Don did; the last couple of months, trying to coordinate his schedule with Don's enough so that they could get away together, he had been working almost non-stop.

"I only meant that this is your time, too," Don had said, feeling angry that he felt like he had to explain himself.

"It's my vacation also," Jenna chimed in, and everyone looked at her.

"Baby, I'm sorry," Sam offered. "We've been ignoring you."

She smiled. "It's not that. It's just that I was hoping to do some sketching, and also for some one-on-one time with Charlie. We could both sit on the bank this afternoon…"

And that's how he had ended up parallel to Sam, hip deep in the river, again. Trying to get Charlie fish for dinner, which Jenna promised to cook using her special campfire recipe. Charlie seemed happy enough, dividing his time between watching Jenna sketch and watching them fish, but this had not been the plan.

Don hated it when a plan fell apart.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"That guy," thought Sam, as he waited for a nibble, "cannot be Charlie's brother."

Sam looked back at his wife and Charlie on the bank. He was looking at her sketches — something she hardly ever allowed — and smiling. Sam had to admit, he did seem to be having a good time, all things considered.

At least the sound of the river, once you were right in it, muted the sound of Charlie's coughing. He felt bad about that. He knew Don hadn't had the fish yesterday, he had let it go on purpose. He had thought there would be plenty more, and he didn't expect Charlie to end up in the drink.

He peeked sideways at Don. He didn't look quite as happy as Charlie. He was strung tighter than the line on his reel. Sam sighed. Don _did_ seem to want Charlie to have a good time…he just acted like Sam shouldn't be part of it. He sighed again. He was probably projecting. Jenna would tell him he was projecting. It's just that he didn't have many close friends, and he and Charlie had hit it off so well last year.

Maybe he _was_ jealous.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jennie turned another page, and this drawing had no background. It was almost an anatomical rendering of a Chinook, and Charlie marvellled at the preciseness. "These are so incredible," he said. "The one you sent me last year was great — it's hanging in my office, and everyone makes positive comments — but I can see a real improvement. I'm not surprised they're offering them for sale at the Lost Creek Marina. You should have a showing."

Jenna blushed. "Oh come on, Charlie, I'm not that good." She turned another page. "But I have enjoyed getting back into art, and I never would have if you hadn't given me that first sketchbook. This is my fourth. Oh!"

The wind had picked up, and a breeze caught a loose sheaf of paper in the book, tossing it down the bank. Charlie was on his feet, calling, "I'll get it!" before Jenna had time to react.

As he jogged after the paper, Charlie didn't notice his brother preparing a side-armed re-cast. He didn't see the hook at all, he just felt something…like someone had shot him in the arm.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Having just checked on Charlie and Jenna's position, Don made the cast. His hook snagged on something behind him — a clump of dirt on the bank, maybe — and he gave a great tug. He didn't expect that the pole would be ripped out of his hand. The splash of it landing in the river seemed to be echoing all around him, and he grabbed for it when he heard Sam yelling.

"Cut the line! Cut the line! The current is taking him!"

Don turned toward the voice and saw Sam throw his fishing pole out onto the bank while he followed it as fast as he could, trying to get…Don froze. Trying to get to Charlie?

"CUT THE LINE!" Sam yelled again, and he saw Jenna jump off the bank with a fillet knife — she must have taken it from the gear they had left there. He saw her reach up, slash at something. Sam was heading downstream, where Don had seen another group of fishermen earlier. One of them had grabbed Charlie as he floated past, and once the line was cut, started hauling him out of the water.

Don finallyfelt his feet moving, and he almost stumbled as he reached the shoreline and climbed up on the bank. He ran as fast as his hip boots would allow down to the group huddled over Charlie. When he got there, he pushed someone aside, saw the hook embedded in his brother's upper arm, heard him coughing and sputtering, taking ragged breaths.

"Congratulations, Don" he heard Sam say. "You got a 140-lb. Spring Californian."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

It had been a long day. Most days were, when you were one of only a few doctors in a rural area. At least Medford was close. At least tourist season wasn't here yet.

The doctor paused, about to lock the door of the clinic, when he heard and saw the SUV screeching into the parking lot. "Liz!" he called, but he saw that his nurse had already climbed out of her car and was headed back towards him.

His days must be running together. He could have sworn he'd seen this group already.

In fact, he recognized that bandage, now soaking wet and threatening to fall off. He recognized those stitches as his own work.

He held the door open for the motley crew. "Back for more?"

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jenna, bless her heart, had thought to bring him dry clothes. Charlie shivered in the bathroom of the clinic and awkwardly changed the bottom half, using one hand. His t-shirt had already been cut off, and he was wearing a gown, waiting for the local to take effect. He looked at his face in the mirror. Some vacation.

As he passed the waiting area on the way back to the exam room, Charlie took pity on Don. He looked so miserable even Sam was being nice to him. Or at least not being mean to him. He caught his brother's eye. "Do you want to come back?"

Don leaped up, was across the room in two steps. "Yeah, I'd like to. What are they going to do?"

Charlie raised his good arm in a wave to Sam and Jenna, gave them a tight smile. "I have to get some shots."

Don lowered his gaze. "Sorry. I know you hate that."

"Dry clothes, I see," said Liz as she herded them back to an exam room. "Smart lady."

The doctor was waiting for them — something Charlie would enjoy remembering the next time he spent the afternoon waiting for one. "Your friend tells me you've all been using multiple-barbed hooks," he said, as he checked the stitches over Charlie's eye to make sure they weren't compromised. "That means I'll have to advance and cut."

Don was all business. "What does that mean?"

The doctor waited for Charlie to stop coughing. He thought he heard a definite rattle this time, and decided to check his patient's lungs. When he finished, he explained to both of them. "This is not an unusual fishing injury," he said. "I'll just use this highly technical piece of equipment I have to advance the hook through the skin. Then I'll cut the eye free, and pull it out. Because it's a puncture wound, we'll give you a tetanus shot — unless you've had one in the last five years?"

Charlie was lying on the table now, but he was growing greener as the explanation went on. "Don't think so. Hate needles."

"I'd think you'd be used to them, if this is the kind of luck you usually have."

"Will he need more stitches?"

"No, these are very small surface wounds, but deep and painful. Usually an antibiotic ointment and dressing is all that's required, but because your brother's body is already trying to heal…well, a number of things…I'm going to prescribe some systemic antibiotics, as well. There's a pharmacy in the grocery next door — open until 9."

Liz came into the room then, holding the tetanus syringe and the doctor's highly technical piece of equipment. Charlie's eyes avoided the needle, stared at the other hand. "Are those pliers?" he asked.

"Yep," the doctor said, and he pushed up the sleeve of the hospital gown. Charlie squeezed his eyes shut, counting from memory the number of gray hairs in Don's head.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

It was obvious Charlie was exhausted by the time they all got back to the campground, but he insisted that they build a campfire at the tentsite and talk.

Don let Sam do the honors. He was the expert, after all, and the faster the fire was going, the faster Charlie would be warm. Still, he fretted. "You should be in the tent," he said. "You're sick."

"Or you can spend the night in the RV," Jenna offered.

Charlie tried to suppress his cough, so that they wouldn't worry more. "No, please, I want to hear the river. Our bags are warm."

"You hair is wet," Don continued, and Charlie felt his resolve evaporating.

"If I agree to sleep in the RV, can I say something first?"

Don was both relieved and worried — Charlie had given in way too easily. "Sure, Buddy." He sat opposite the firepit from Charlie, so he could see his face clearly in the firelight. Sam placed another log and joined Jenna, who was sitting so close to Charlie he would have been annoyed if he hadn't known she was just trying to warm him up.

Charlie started to lift his left arm to run through his wet hair, thought better of it and clutched it tighter to his side instead. "Look, Donnie, Sam…loving both of you does not negate one of you. I've been blessed both by the brother I was given…" he looked at Don, then sneezed and turned toward Sam, "and the one I've chosen." He shuddered once and looked at the fire. "But if you guys don't stop whatever it is you've been doing all week, you're going to kill me."

Don dropped his head, ashamed. "Buddy…" he started, but Charlie interrupted him in a voice so tired he knew his brother had to finish fast.

"I'll sleep in the RV. But you two have to promise me something."

Sam was embarrassed, now, himself. "Of course."

Charlie waited until Don was looking him in the eye again. "Tomorrow morning, bright and early…the two of you are out of here. Together. Alone." He turned his gaze to Sam. "I don't care where you go. But don't come back until this is settled."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Sam threw his head back and laughed. "He did _what_?"

"Passed clean out," grinned Don.

The two sat at a roadside café just outside of Prospect, a little over an hour from the campground, eating pie and drinking coffee. Sam had stopped at Lost Creek on the way to show Don where he and Jenna lived and worked, but he was on vacation, he didn't want to stay there, so it wasn't long before they hit the road again. It had been drizzling rain all morning, and when it reached downpour proportions they decided to stop and wait it out.

Sam closed his eyes to savor the lemon meringue, then leaned over the table toward Don. "This is Jenna's," he said lowly. "This place buys 'em from the Marina."

Don was impressed. "Really?" He indicated his cherry pie. "This one, too?"

"Yeah. She's a good cook, I think."

"Trust me," answered Don, "this is some of the best I've ever had, even in the big city."

Sam watched Don dig in for more. "So anyway," he said, "how did you ever get him to go with you in the first place? He teaches _college_, man — he must know a flu shot comes from a needle."

Don paused, took a drink of coffee. "Actually, I sort of didn't tell him we were in line for a flu shot."

Sam put down his fork. "Give."

Don grinned. "Okay. A couple of winters ago, right after our Mom died, Charlie got the flu really bad. He was actually in the hospital for a couple of days. The next winter, Dad and I tried to talk him into the shot, but he wasn't having it. Sure enough, he got sick again — all those people at the college, there's no way he's not in direct contact with a few million germs per day. Anyway, another couple of days in the hospital. The next winter was the one before you met him. He didn't drive then, remember, and it wasn't unusual for me to pick him up at Cal Sci and give him a ride home — especially in bad weather."

Sam nodded, drank some coffee but kept his eyes on Don's.

"So, Dad and I came up with a plan. The next time the rain hit too badly for Charlie to ride his bike home in it, I called him and offered him a ride. Then I called around the city until I found a flu shot clinic in a pharmacy. He was in the middle of a research project around then — well, usually, actually, and he was working on his laptop in the SUV while we were driving there. He wanted to stay in the car and work, but I told him I might need his help, so he came with me, but he brought the laptop with him. He just stood behind me and kept working." The look on his face changed from amusement to…_tenderness_, that was the only word Sam could think of. "That may be hard to believe," Don continued, "because you've only known him when he's not working, but he can get really single-minded, blind, deaf, dumb. He forgets to eat." Don shook his head. "What's unusual is that twice in the last year — the times he was here — he's left the laptop behind." He took another bite of pie, washed it down with some coffee. "Anyway, we stood there for 20 minutes and he didn't even ask me what we were doing. The person behind him had to keep pushing him forward. So we get to the table where the clinic is set up, finally, and I fill out his paperwork and shove it under his hand. 'Sign this, Charlie.' And he did. Just did what I asked, didn't even read it. The nurse comes around the table and gives me my shot, then asks Charlie to take his coat off. He wasn't even listening. I had to use my best FBI/Big Brother tone to get his attention, and when he looked up, the first thing he saw was this woman standing in front of him with a needle. He turned white as a ghost, his eyes got wide, the pupils dilated, he shot me a look of sheer panic — and the next thing I know, his knees are giving out, he's going down."

Sam laughed again. "Did he ever get the shot?"

"Yeah. I made her give it to him before they got the smelling salts."

Sam still chuckled. "Poor guy. Ends up with a fish hook in his arm."

The waitress came to refill their coffee, and the two smiled their thanks. After she had left, Sam spoke timidly. "Sorry to hear about your Mom," he said. "Charlie told us last year that she had passed, but he didn't say much about it. Mostly it was just in response to Jenna saying she had lost her Dad that year."

Don swallowed. "It was bad," he said. "I'm surprised he told you that much."

"So it must have been good for him to have a brother around, I always wanted a brother. My parents and I weren't what you'd call close, and I thought if I had a brother, I wouldn't be alone."

Don was staring out the window. "Charlie and I have had our problems, and we weren't of much help to each other when Mom was dying. We've had to work hard to make a relationship, the last few years." Sam didn't say anything. He had more questions, but this was really none of his business. To his surprise, Don continued anyway. "You know that Charlie teaches at the university, has a few degrees…" he turned from the window and looked at Sam again. "Did you know he went to Princeton when he was 13?"

Sam wasn't sure he'd heard right, and he put his coffee cup down. "What did you say?"

Don smiled, a little sadly, Sam thought. "You heard me. He's five years younger than me, and he was doing my homework at 7. That kind of gift…it can put a strain on everyone in the family."

Sam mulled this information for a while, still couldn't come up with anything better than, "Wow…"

"So I'm overprotective," Don admitted, "Charlie tells me that all the time. Between trying to make up for some of the stuff I did to him when we were kids, and keeping him safe when he consults for the FBI, it's ingrained in me. I'm sorry." He looked down at the table. "I didn't even give you a chance, I just saw you as a potential threat, something that kept Charlie away from me once already."

Sam didn't know where to start. "Did you just say he consults for the FBI?"

"Didn't mention that, did he? He designs mathematical algorithims to help us detect certain patterns, predict behavior." Don shrugged. "I don't get it. Kind-of feels like he's still doing my homework, sometimes."

"Well, shit," Sam finally said. "Damn."

Don laughed. "It's hard to get used to, I know."

"I want to apologize too," Sam finally said. "Like I said, I always wanted a brother, and Charlie just fell right into position last year. I didn't want to let him go, once he remembered he already had a brother. And he never said anything about what brought him here in the first place, really, he didn't…I just liked to imagine it was you. That I could do better, somehow. I don't know. Anyway, I'm sorry."

Don looked at the rain again. "What a week," he sighed. "We should have had this talk four days ago. Now that we can stop fighting over Charlie, we've got to start home tomorrow."

Sam grinned. "So next time," he said, joining Don in looking out at the rain. "Next time will be different. This day is toast. It's after noon, do you think Charlie will let us come back?"

"He's probably not awake yet," Don answered. "He was still shivering under the covers when we left."

Sam snapped his fingers. "Idea. Rainy weather. Calls for stew. Jenna makes the most incredible stew…Let's head back, stop at the grocery, take a few things home with us. She'll do it to make Charlie warm up."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Charlie was very much awake, and padded in his bare feet to the door of the RV to let them in when he and Jenna heard the SUV. He was glad to see the relaxed looks on the faces of his brother and his friend, even seemed interested in the idea of stew.

Jenna unpacked the grocery bag, placing meat and vegetables on the small counter. "You boys make nice?" she asked, and Sam grabbed her from behind to give her a kiss on his way past to the small table. "Yes, dear," he said. "Did you know Charlie passed out over a flu shot?"

Charlie's head jerked up from where he stood next to Jenna. He looked at Don. "What else did you tell him?"

"You said you didn't care what we did," Don answered, following Sam to the table.

Jenna patted Charlie's hand. "It's okay, honey. You just stay here and chop vegetables for me." She opened the cupboard over their heads. "This is my one indulgence this year. I bought a great, restaurant-quality cast-iron Dutch oven, from one of the Marina suppliers."

She gripped the edge with her fingers and started to pull it out. Looking at Charlie, she continued. "Vegetable peeler is in that drawer, there." Suddenly something furry brushed her hand, and she looked up at the cupboard to see a tiny rodent rise from the oven, place two tentative paws on her hand and wrinkle its nose at her. Jenna jerked back, screaming, "Mouse! Mouse!", and soon bumped into the wall behind her. Charlie instinctively ducked away, trying to protect his injured arm from the falling cast-iron, but only managed to deflect its path.

All four of them watched it hit the top of his foot, and all four of them heard the resounding crack.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The doctor was leaning over the front desk, pointing out a chart notation to the office assistant, and looked up when he heard the bell over the door ring. He saw Charlie, supported by Don and Sam on either side, awkwardly limp through the door, trying to avoid putting any pressure on his left foot, which was bare, and the color purple.

"You're kidding, right?" He picked the chart up that he had just been discussing with the office assistant. "Well, I think your room is ready."

Don knew the way, and he guided the odd crabwalk to the exam room. This time, as it was the middle of the day, they had to wait a while for the doctor.

"If you're okay here, I'll go out to Jenna," said Sam. "She feels terrible."

"We're fine," answered Don, and Charlie gave him a look that silently said, _"We are?"_. Aloud he encouraged Sam to "Go. Tell Jenna not to worry." After Sam had left, Charlie looked again at Don. "So you two are really all right, now? You're not just trying to fake it for the few hours we have left?"

Don was holding Charlie's arm to steady him on the table, and started to give it a squeeze, noticed Charlie's wince. Oops. Wrong arm. He switched to the other side. "Yeah, we're okay, now. Sam's a nice guy."

Charlie dropped his head, shook the unruly dark curls. "You sound as if you're surprised."

Don was sheepish. "I know. We're both pretty embarrassed about the whole thing, now."

The doctor interrupted them, then, gave Charlie's foot a cursory examination. "I'm pleased to say," he shared, standing and taking off his gloves, "that thanks to patients like you, the clinic just expanded this last year, to become a full-service facility. You can have your x-rays here." He looked at Don pointedly. "Let's see if I remember. You're the fishhook, helped with the cut on his temple?" Don nodded. "So the other guy is the black eye. This one must be his?"

"No," Don ground out, liking this doctor less and less. "It was Jenna, but it was an accident. They were all accidents." Charlie suddenly sneezed, and the doctor looked at the chart.

"Low grade fever," he said. "Which one dumped you in the river, again?"

"Both of them," answered Charlie before Don could get a word in.

The doctor looked again at Don. "I think we've got it from here," he said. "Why don't you wait outside, with your fellow…assassins in training, or whatever you are?"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Fourth and fifth metatarsals," he said, studying the x-rays on the light box. "Simple fractures. You're very lucky, really, a crushing injury could be a lot worse. We can outfit you with a short leg walking cast and boot, although you'll probably need crutches for at least a week, until the pain abates."

He turned to look at his patient, whose pale face spotted two bright flames of color. "Looks like your fever is going up. Have you been taking the antibiotics?" Charlie nodded miserably, blew his nose again. The doctor checked the chart. "Well, I guess it has only been one day since I gave them to you." He turned to head for the door of the exam room, scribbling on a prescription pad. "My tech will be in to cast you," he started. "While they're waiting, I'll send your…_friends_…out to rent crutches, get some pain meds." He stopped with his hand on the doorknob and turned back around to face Charlie. "Can I make a suggestion?"

Charlie's head was pounding again, his arm still throbbed, and now the very air was too much pressure on his foot, he could barely concentrate. He looked at the doctor sullenly. "What?"

"Maybe it's time to go home."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

They broke camp quietly, so as not to wake anyone still trying to sleep in the early dawn. Sam helped Don pack the SUV, while Charlie leaned on his crutches and watched, feeling Jenna's arm around his waist. Sam threw Don the last rolled sleeping bag, and she stretched awkwardly over a crutch to kiss Charlie on the cheek. "I'm…"

"Don't say 'sorry' again, please," he smiled.

She smiled back. "Well, I am, but not just what you think." He lifted his brows and waited. "I'm sorry," she confessed quietly, "to admit that even if I had known what this week would be like, I would have wanted you to come anyway. I've missed you."

He pressed his head into hers, then pulled back and kissed her forehead. "Me, too," he said. "But maybe next time, you could come to L.A.?"

She laughed quietly. "I'd like that. I may have to knock Sam out to get him there, but I would really enjoy that, also. On certain days."

Don shook Sam's hand sincerely. "It wasn't good to meet you," he said, surprising Sam into a laugh too loud for the quiet campground. "But it's good to know you now," Don finished, and Sam shook again, clasped Don's upper arm with his other hand.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," he smiled, shyly, and the quartet switched partners for final good-byes. Just a few moments later Jenna was bundling Charlie in the passenger seat. She looked over at Don, climbing behind the wheel. "Drive safely, now. When you get tired, you pull over for a while. I know Charlie won't be able to spell you on the way home."

"I will," he promised. "We'll see you soon." The doors were shut, the SUV slowly pulled away. Don could see them waving in the rear view mirror, all the way to the main road.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Don leaned over to shake Charlie's shoulder. "Wake up, Buddy. Rest stop."

Charlie groaned. "Am 'wake," he said, head still leaning on the window, eyes closed. "Don't wanna be."

Don laughed. "It's time for another antibiotic. Want to take a pain pill too?"

Charlie straightened a little in his seat, opened the passenger door of the SUV. "Where are we?"

Don had come around from the driver's side and waited to help his brother. "Just outside Redding." He handed Charlie the crutches, kept an arm at his back until he knew he was steady. "There's a picnic table outside the restroom. Jenna packed us some lunch."

Charlie was crutching toward the men's door, and shook his head a little.

"Don't tell me you're not hungry," Don said. "You need to eat something with this medication. Besides, I have enough to explain to Dad already."

After they had each used the restroom — Charlie insisting he could do it on his own, giving Don a glare for even asking — they sat at the table. Charlie managed to eat a few bites of the sandwich Jenna had prepared, and took his antibiotic. He refused pain medication other than Tylenol, though, because he wanted to try and stay awake to help Don stay awake.

Don yawned, stretched his hands over his head, looked at his brother. "Charlie, I really wish this week had turned out differently. We were idiots."

Charlie just looked at him and smiled. "I'm not sorry. I got to see my friends again. Even better, I got to spend some time with you." His smile faded. "I am sorry that you didn't have a good time, though."

"Charlie," protested Don, "I had a great time! I think we should go back, maybe take Dad. There were a lot of B&Bs around there, he wouldn't have to 'rough it' with us."

Charlie frowned, now, looked confused. "But…"

"Sam and I have that all worked out," Don assured him. "I should have thought it through more before we left. When we got there, and I saw him, it all came flooding back to me. What it was like when you were gone. He was as good a target as any."

They were quiet for a while. Don finished his sandwich, drank some water. "You know," he suddenly confessed, not quite looking at Charlie. "I came to get you, once. Got almost to Sacramento before I even knew what I was doing."

Charlie was startled. "What?"

Don nodded. "I just woke up one Saturday, was going to call you and ask if you wanted to go to the batting cages. Next thing I knew, a road sign was telling me Sacramento was 70 miles away."

"You turned around?" Charlie answered his own question. "Of course you turned around, you never showed up in Oregon…" he looked at his brother. "_Why_ did you turn around?"

Don met his eyes. "Because you asked us not to come after you. I didn't understand it, I didn't like it, but I had to respect it. I had to respect you."

"Don…" Charlie's voice was soft. "I'm sorry, I never realized…"

Don held up a hand. "You've already taken a hit for that time away, back in the truck stop, remember? After I picked you up at the airport? You don't have to say it again."

But Charlie wasn't happy, Don could see that. "No, that morning I apologized for the time I was gone, time our relationship will never get back. Now, I'm apologizing for what you went through while I was gone. I never thought about your pain, before, and I'm sorry."

Don cleared his throat, took another drink of water. He looked at his brother with bright eyes. "Hey. We don't keep score, right?"

Charlie smiled. "Right."

"Charlie," Don continued, searching for something to lighten the mood, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I've been wondering, ever since that morning…how did you find out about the food at truck stops?" He looked pointedly at the sandwich still remaining before Charlie. "I know you can eat, now. Can't use that one on me, anymore."

Charlie grinned. He looked over Don's shoulder for a moment, and the far-away look that had become so familiar to Don this last year was back. Finally, he answered. "I drove a truck, once. An 18-wheeler. At 3:30 in the morning. For 17–and-a-half minutes."

Don gaped at his brother. **_"You what?"_** It came out as a croak.

"That was after my gear was stolen, which was during the MVA, after the college students picked me up."

Don wasn't sure what to believe. Charlie had not volunteered any information about his trip to Oregon, only the part after he got there, and met Sam and Jenna. Was he kidding? He had to be kidding. He hadn't decided what to say yet when Charlie continued. "And some day, I'll tell you about Bill. I got the RV from Bill, remember?"

Don knew that part was true, Sam and Jenna had mentioned it that first night. "Um…maybe on the way back, you can tell me about something? The 17-and-a-half minutes, maybe. If you're ready."

"Maybe,' Charlie was noncommittal, the far-away look not quite gone. "Ready to go? Or are you tired?"

Don pushed himself up. "No, I'm okay."

Charlie crutched to the SUV while Don cleaned off the picnic table. He jogged around to the climb in under the wheel, and looked to see if Charlie was ready. Again he took in the black eye, the bandages showing on his forehead and peeking out on his arm from under his t-shirt, the flush of his brother's face and the casted foot that rested on a pillow on the floorboard. What a week. He started the engine. "Charlie," he noted, "I'm worried about you."

His brother looked at him questionably.

"You really look like you could use a vacation."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

**FINIS**

**A/N: I prefer drama/angst when reading myself, but this is my 6th completed story in a month, and a girl's gotta take a break. Hope you enjoyed the ride!**


End file.
